Finders Keepers (Losers Weepers)
by Nostalgia 101
Summary: The group pair up for a scavenger hunt. Things quickly escalate into madness. (Nick/Jess, Winston/Cece, Coach/Schmidt).


**Notes:** Set sometime after episode 3.13

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><p>Nick dried off an empty beer glass with a dishtowel, glaring at the ten-dollar bill Winston was waving at him. "For the millionth time I'm not serving you a damn umbrella drink ya lunatic."<p>

"Come on, man," said Winston, sliding the note towards him on the bar. "One drink ain't gonna hurt."

"That's what you said last time right before my body was used as a stripper pole."

"You have to admit he did have a few killer moves," said Schmidt, sipping his vodka tonic. "Who knew someone so scrawny could be so fluid?"

"Is Winnie the Bish _still_ getting freaky on the pink juice?" asked Coach, returning from the bathroom. "I thought that was just a really awkward phase. Like his Dennis Rodman hair – or his bacne."

"No, he's still got that too," Schmidt sighed. "But will he try my lotus blossom serum infused with hyacinth? Like hell he will."

Cece shook her head as she poured a glass of red wine for a patron. "This job is getting me into _way_ too much information territory. Case in point," she added, tapping the glass with her nail. "This customer is celebrating getting her bunions removed. Isn't that great and not at all disgusting?"

Winston patted her arm. "You have my sympathies, Cece," he said, throwing a charming smile her way. "Majestic, wise, drinks-keeper Cece."

"Yeah I'm not enabling your Magic Mike tendencies either," she cut him off, walking around the counter to deliver the drink to a booth.

Jess smiled at her as she passed, arriving late after a staff meeting. "Oh cool, are we finally all going to see the amateur theater company's homage to Magic Mike; _Enchanting Eric_?" She stretched across the bar to give Nick a quick kiss. "I hear their mash-up of Pony and the Mr Ed theme is pretty spectacular."

"If I wanted to see nearly-naked dudes thrusting their junk around I'd watch Schmidt do his 'Booty-Glutey-Rockin' fitness DVD," said Coach, turning to Schmidt with a wince. "Why do your pants gotta be so tight, man? Leave a little mystery. Better yet, leave a whole Nancy Drew novel."

Nick opened a bottle of apple and pear cider for Jess. "How'd your meeting go?" he asked, handing her the drink. "Are you running that place yet?"

"Not quite," Jess replied, digging around in her purse. "But I did find something interesting in the trash can on the way out that I think you're all gonna love."

"Unless you've got Oscar the Grouch in there I'm out," said Winston.

Coach pointed at Nick. "We've already got one of those."

"Hey you big jerk!" Nick exclaimed, furrowing his eyebrows. "You watch your pie hole or I'll kick you out on your ass."

"I'm sorry, obviously I meant you're Oscar the Super Pleasant."

"Nope, no puppets in here, adorable as that would be," Jess interrupted, smoothing out a crinkled up pamphlet. "It's an activity we can all do tomorrow morning," she said, holding up the paper. "A city-wide scavenger hunt!"

Schmidt screwed up his nose. "Who are we? The Goonies?"

"I wish!" laughed Nick, shaking his head. "Man they were cool."

"Name _one_ of them," Coach challenged him.

"Uh… Y'know, the main one…" Nick rubbed the back of his neck. "Sasquatch something. I haven't seen it in a long time OK?"

"Do you even know what a movie is, dude?" said Winston.

"So are we in?" asked Jess, giving them all a hopeful smile. "You have to work in pairs, but you get to think up your own team name and everyone gets a participation ribbon."

"Wow a ribbon," said Schmidt, swirling around the ice in his drink. "Well why didn't you just say so? Of course I'll give up my precious Saturday morning to traipse around town like some common street hoodlum scavenging for junk if it's for a ribbon."

"OK, Schmidt."

"I sure hope we get a gold star sticker as well, but I don't want to dream too big."

Jess rolled her eyes. "Are you done?"

"Yes I think so."

"Good. Because now I can also point out that the winning team gets one thousand dollars." She hid a smile as Nick nearly dropped the glass he was cleaning.

"One thousand human dollars?" Nick exclaimed. "You know what we could do with that money, right?"

"Finally go on a weekend vacation!" she beamed.

"Buy a waterbed for that sea captain and mermaid thing we talked about!" he replied at the same time, before his voice trailed off. "I mean yeah, mini vacation. So pumped for that."

"Does that mean you're in?" said Jess.

"Yeah, let's do this thing," he replied, holding up his hand for a high five.

Cece hurried back to the safety of the bar, her face contorted in disgust. "If anyone wants to know the ins and outs of a bunion removal procedure I am now a reluctant expert." She shuddered, noticing the pamphlet on the countertop. "What's that?"

"Scavenger hunt, like the ones we used to do when we were kids," Jess replied, as Cece read over it. "Nick and I are already a team," she lowered her voice, "but I can totally drop him if you want to pair up."

"Hey! You can't go back on a high five, that's blasphemy," Nick said in outrage.

Winston folded his money in half, pressing down one of the edges. "I'm pretty sure you're being blasphemous about blasphemy, man."

"It's OK, I don't want to break up the band," Cece reassured her co-worker. "Although that extra money would come in handy now I'm on a bartender wage."

"Hold on," said Schmidt, as he and Coach both sat up a little straighter. "You actually want to participate in this madness?"

Cece shrugged one shoulder. "I used to be pretty good at them back in the day."

"Well then by all means, let me offer my services to you as co-captain of your team," said Schmidt with a grin. "I'm assuming we'll be called 'Team Sexy' yes?"

"Woah, wait a second there mister," Jess protested, waving her arms around. "Weren't you only _just_ complaining about being a street urchin or whatever?"

Schmidt scoffed at her. "Don't be ridiculous, Jessica. You've obviously had way too much cider."

"No, I'm pretty sure I heard you say that too," said Coach, propping his elbows on the bar and resting his chin on top of his hands. "What do you say, Cece? Want to put the 'us' in team?" He paused. "Or a word that actually fits…"

Cece glanced between the two men. "Hmm, pair up with my ex or his friend I made out with once? Yeah, this whole situation isn't awkward at all."

The two men burst out into forced laughter. "Pfft, no, you crazy girl," said Coach, giving Schmidt's arm a friendly punch. "We're cool here."

"The coolest," Schmidt agreed, giving Coach's arm an overenthusiastic whack in return. "I'm just excellent at finding things is all. Every online quiz that sorts me into Hufflepuff can't be wrong."

"I once found my way out of an IKEA in under ten minutes," Coach boasted. "_Without checking any maps_," he sang, cupping a hand to his mouth.

"Two very compelling arguments," Cece deadpanned, taking a bowl of limes out of the fridge to slice up. "Maybe you two should pair up instead? Sounds like the ultimate team to me."

Schmidt and Coach eyed one another warily. "And leave you without a partner?" said Schmidt. "We couldn't possibly be so brutish."

"That's OK, I've already got another partner in mind," Cece replied, shooting a glance to her right. "Hey Winston, wanna go scavenger hunting with me?"

Winston felt five pairs of eyes fall upon him as continued to fold up his bank note. "Honestly, I would love to help a friend out in their time of need, but I'd require a small favor in return."

"What kind of favor?" Cece's frown turned into a look of realization as Winston's money flew her way, shaped like a paper airplane. With a sigh, she popped the lid of a plastic container. "One umbrella or two?" she asked, twirling a purple one.

"Surprise me," Winston grinned as the rest of his friends groaned in protest.

Nick pointed an accusatory finger at Cece. "This is on _you _if he starts dry-humping people. Or the furniture."

"You're seriously putting your faith in Tiny Dancer over here?" asked Schmidt.

Cece lifted her chin defiantly. "I think we're gonna win."

"Is that so?" Schmidt turned to his friend. "Hey Winston? When you lost your sunglasses the other day, how long did it take you to find them?"

Winston shot a wary glance Cece's way before responding. "About an hour."

"And whereabouts did they magically appear in the end?"

"… They were on my head the whole time," he murmured.

"Of course they were." Schmidt held out a hand to Coach. "Well compadre. Shall we endeavour on this quest together and show everyone how it's done?"

With a smile, Coach took his hand and shook it. "Only if you never call me compadre again."

"Can do, amigo."

"Nope, not happening either."

"This is going to be so awesome you guys!" Jess exclaimed, happily bouncing around on her seat. "We'll have so much fun! I mean, obviously Nick and I will be the real winners on the day, but who could say no to a participation ribbon, am I right?"

Coach choked on a gulp of beer. "Nick? Win something that involves speed and a certain amount of athleticism? Don't make me laugh," he chuckled, clutching his stomach. "Oops! Too late!"

"Yeah, keep it up ya clown," said Nick, moving aside as Cece passed Winston his fruity alcoholic concoction. "Hope you're still having fun when Schmidt makes you wear a spandex body suit."

"It does allow for much more speed when you have to race around," admitted Schmidt.

"Hell no, dude," snapped Coach. "Hell. No."

They all became silent at the sound of Winston giggling. "Anyone else feel that conga beat or is it just me and my girl Gloria Estefan?" he said, taking another sip of pink liquid through his crazy straw. "Who wants to get their groove on with Winnie?"

Cece bit her lip uneasily. "Well, he's found an imaginary beat… maybe this is a good sign for tomorrow?" She cringed as Winston stood up to dance around by himself; pausing for a moment when he couldn't find the drink he'd left on the bar. "… Oh God what have I done?"

"Yay awesome group fun time!" Jess exclaimed in a quieter fashion, meekly pumping her fist in the air.

_Continued… _


End file.
